


You Can See It with the Lights Out

by larryatendoftheday



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Soulmates, no pandemic au, very pg-13 until the last chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29751735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryatendoftheday/pseuds/larryatendoftheday
Summary: In a universe where you know as soon as you meet your soulmate, Harry's been shaking hands his whole career, waiting for the one.
Relationships: Eleanor Calder & Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lotswrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotswrites/gifts).



> This fic is set in 2021 in a timeline with no pandemic where Harry and Louis never get together but soulmates are real. I omitted Ollie and Freddie for simplicity. Everything else is / was the same. :)
> 
> This fic was written for [@sweetsubharry](https://sweetsubharry.tumblr.com/) based on the prompt "soulmate au" for The Secret Larry Valentine exchange! This is my first completed fic in almost a year, and it's been hard but very exciting to work with a short timeline on a gift for another creator. I hope you enjoy your gift! Thank you to the mods for organizing this!
> 
> This fic could not have come together without the help of my incredible editor [sunshineandthemoonlight ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineandthemoonlight/pseuds/sunshineandthemoonlight) who caught all my dumb mistakes and helped me strengthen every scene. Aria deserves extra applause for this one because I wrote most of it in a jumble of tenses, and because I kept asking her to edit with zero turnaround time. She's my queen.
> 
> This fic and I am also very indebted to the fabulous [ justthegirljada ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justthegirljada/pseuds/justthegirljada) for amazing ideas, brainstorming help, and essential cheerleading. You can thank her for the fun twist in chapter 5. Brilliant!
> 
> You can [listen to songs I listened to while writing](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/064rNTf5olbGsl3Hw2hvyD?si=ObKKqRVZRpiq4C2KLM2T_Q). Title comes from "You Are In Love" by Taylor Swift.

“I’ll take two mint chip cones, please.” Harry smirks as he pulls out Louis’ wallet to pay. He had swiped it off the studio counter and dashed out the door, and Louis was none the wiser. It’s the perfect crime, really, because how could Louis be mad when Harry shows up with surprise ice cream? 

They’re both multimillionaires, so money really isn’t an issue anyway. (Being in the most successful boy band since the Beatles will do that.) That doesn’t change the fact that Harry likes to mess with Louis, though. Loves how much he loves it. Loves seeing that adorable, fond annoyance spread across his face. Loves how he curses and complains but is secretly so happy with the attention. Harry is going to enjoy this.

As he thumbs through the wallet looking for the most pretentious-looking card, a bit of paper catches on his thumb. Curious, he tugs and wiggles until it starts to come loose from the tight slot where it was wedged. All of a sudden there’s a photo in his hand. 

He blinks, sure he is seeing this wrong, but no, Louis has a tiny photo of Harry hidden in his wallet. Not a group photo. Not a photo of Louis’ siblings or dogs or long-time girlfriend. Not even a photo of his deceased mum. No, it’s a photo of Harry. It’s from around 2015, when Harry had long hair. In the photo he’s looking up at the camera like he’d just been tying his shoes, though his boots didn’t have any laces. It’s candid, casual, regular...and in his best friend’s wallet six years later.

“Um, sir?”

Harry’s head snaps up to the shop worker who has clearly been trying to get his attention longer than he’s realized. “Sorry. So sorry. Um, what do I owe you?”

“It’s going to be $4.50.”

“Sure, yeah.” Harry grabs a random card, and the shop worker exchanges two cones for it, forcing Harry to set the photo and wallet on the counter. 

The door chimes and a voice Harry knows like his own calls, “Oi! I knew it!” Louis sounds breathless, like he’s run here. “You sly fu-- Sorry.” He cuts himself off, no doubt seeing the kids in the corner. “I caught you, Harry.” 

Harry turns around and blinks his eyes wide, feeling a bit off-kilter. “You got me!”

Louis slings an arm around his shoulder. “Yes, I did, and I won’t let you forget it. It’s impressive that I guessed where you--” Louis stops suddenly, eyes fixed on the counter. He looks uncertain all of a sudden.

Harry follows his gaze to the wallet and the photo. “You know me too well. Of course, you guessed. Thought you deserved something sweet after all that recording.”

“Thank you.” Louis squeezes him closer to his side.

The shop worker hands over the card, and Louis reaches for the other cone and his wallet. He quickly tucks the photo away, face down, and Harry doesn’t know what to say, but he wants to say something. He doesn’t mind the photo, really, but it’s a bit strange.

“So you have a photo of me in your wallet, eh?” He winces at how the words sound out loud, especially when Louis freezes.

“Yep.” He looks caught, ashamed. He starts on his cone, carefully avoiding eye contact. 

Harry pauses, then says, “Sometimes I miss my long hair, too.”

A gurgling laugh springs out of Louis as he tries to swallow his mouthful of ice cream. 

Laughing is much better so Harry leans into it. “I get it, of course.” He shrugs with exaggerated modesty. “The fans always talk about 2015 Harry supremacy. Don’t be embarrassed, Lou. It’s only natural to feel that way.” 

Louis swats his arm. “Yeah yeah, somebody’s got a big head.”

“I actually have a very normal head to body ratio. You know that! The people at Madame Tussauds said so.” 

Louis laughs again. “Shut up.” He wrinkles his nose. “Unlike the fans, I know your long hair was tangly and secretly gross. El used to beg me to hold you down and brush it.”

“Oh come on, I was always flipping it everywhere on stage! If Eleanor wants to brush my hair, she can come do it anytime.” He flutters his eyelashes flirtatiously.

Louis swallows. “Fuck off.” There’s no venom in it. They both know Harry wouldn’t try to steal Louis’ girl.

There’s a beat of silence. Harry licks up the drip of ice cream running down his knuckles. Louis attacks his cone with the same ferocious toddler energy he’s had about ice cream since Harry first met him, a decade earlier in the XFactor bathroom. God, they’ve been friends forever. Even after the band took a break, Louis has been a constant in his life. Louis looks up, and Harry realizes he’s smiling at him.

“Wha’?” Louis asks, blushing.

“You still eat ice cream like a toddler on crack.”

Louis turns his nose up in mock offense. “I’ll have you know you eat absolutely everything like a frog, so....”

“Right.” Harry sticks his tongue out as far as he can and waits until he gets a smile and eye roll in response.

“So what do you think of the harmonies I was working on?” Louis asks, leaning in.

They launch into a discussion about Louis’ new music, and Harry tries to let the photo go, but he can’t stop seeing it in his mind. Finding his photo in Louis’ wallet reminded him of everything he doesn’t have. It feels like something a soulmate, a husband, would do, and he longs for that so badly. 

Harry hasn’t found his soulmate, and he isn’t dating anyone else either. He doesn’t like to talk about how desperately he wants that. It’s too intimate, too vulnerable to confess. 

But Harry knows eventually he will have to meet the one. It’s supposed to be instantly clear, like everything in the world simply clicks into place. You meet them and just know.

Harry has read so many articles about finding your soul mate. He's listened to every interview, watched every documentary, read every book about people's experiences, but all their answers and tips and descriptions are always so impossibly vague. Some describe a sense of calm. Others say they felt overwhelming joy. Everyone says you would know, immediately and unwaveringly, that this person is your person.

So every day Harry shakes every hand in the room, and he waits for that feeling, waits for the one.

~~~

Harry is a few margaritas deep when he stumbles out onto the balcony, away from the rowdy games inside. He flops onto the swinging bench and is about to kick off from the ground when he catches the movement of another figure. 

He must seem startled because a woman’s voice says, “Hey, it’s just me.” She walks over and sits down on the swing, close enough that Harry can make out her features even in the dark.

“Oh hi, Eleanor. Didn’t see you.”

“Yeah, it’s dark. Wanna swing?”

Harry nods, and they wordlessly push off together. He loves the feeling of moving through cool night air like this. It’s calm, quiet, almost like a separate world from inside the house. 

The glow of her cigarette surprises him as she raises it to her lips. It smells like Louis to him, but this isn’t Louis. Harry finds the habit disgusting, really.

Eleanor laughs as she blows out her smoke. “Sorry, forgot you hate smoking.” He must have cringed, damn it. She grinds her fag out on the bottom of her shoe. “Unless it’s Louis, of course.”

Harry laughs self-consciously. “Yeah, maybe.” Probably. Definitely, if he’s honest. His brain swirls for a minute, groping for the reason, for why that might be, before he closes his eyes and lets himself focus on the rocking of the swing instead. 

When he opens his eyes again, Eleanor is looking at him with the tiniest knowing smirk. Logically, he knows that she can’t see much in the night, but somehow he feels exposed. She leans back and pushes their swing higher. “You know… when I met my soulmate, I didn’t realize right away.”

Harry feels his jaw drop. “What?” She looked at her soulmate--at _Louis--_ spoke to him, _touched_ him, and didn’t immediately know? In all his research he’d never heard about this happening, and he can't imagine anyone meeting Louis and not immediately feeling how special he is.

“Yeah. It took me until the end of the night to realize, because it was just so easy, so natural and good, that I didn’t even notice what was happening.”

“Wow.” As unheard of as it is, Harry can understand what she means. When he’d met Louis it had also been so natural and wonderful. Fans don’t call him the sun for nothing. 

“He knew right away of course. He was just waiting to get me alone to talk about it.”

That sounds like him, of course. Louis would never want to talk about something that intimate with other people around. Harry can picture the whole thing. 

Eleanor looks at him with those same piercing eyes. “You ever get lonely?”

Harry doesn’t know how to respond to that when he still has the visual of that photo sliding out of Louis’ wallet imprinted in his mind. He shrugs, swallows, and manages to say, “Yeah, course.” Eleanor hums and he feels compelled to explain. “I’ve got great people in my life, though. Got my family. Got the boys. Got Lou.”

“Of course,” she murmurs. 

“Lucky to have him,” he says, lost for a moment in the bone-deep gratitude he feels when he thinks about finding Louis in this vast world. “So, so lucky.”

Eleanor shoves at the ground with her feet with enough force to rattle the swing chains. “I wish he wouldn’t be so stubborn.”

“The most stubborn,” Harry agrees with a little smile. 

Eleanor sighs and plants her feet to stop the swing. “Well, let me grab you another drink. I wanna hear how your acting gig is going.”

“Make it strong!” he calls after her.

She turns around and rolls her eyes. “Bossy little rockstar.”


	2. Chapter 2

Louis leaves the FIFA and ping-pong behind and wanders into the kitchen to grab the kettle. He’s sober enough to make tea, and boy does he want a good cup of tea right now. A body crashes into his. It’s large and clumsy and distinctly Harry-like. 

“Oof.”

“Found him,” Harry says as he shoves his face into Louis’ neck. 

“Hey there, goof,” Louis murmurs back.

A drunk Harry is even more cuddly than a sober Harry, and Louis has to take a breath to center himself. He’s just so much, all the time, but Louis is practiced at this careful self-control, the measured way he lets himself loop his arm around Harry’s back.

“Smell good,” Harry mumbles with a content sigh. “You always smell good.”

“It’s just soap, love,” Louis responds with a choked little laugh. Sometimes drunk Harry is really, really too much.

“Didn’t realize you waited.” 

“Hmm?” Louis maneuvers himself to lean against the counter so he can support Harry’s weight. 

“You met your soulmate, but you waited.”

Louis’ knees let go beneath him, and suddenly they’re a tangle of bruised limbs on the kitchen floor. The sting of the fall barely registers. _What_ had Harry just said?

“What did you say?”

“Ummmmm…” Harry hums, looking a little cross-eyed as he focuses. “I’m a pelican, I think.”

“You’re a what?”

Harry gestures to his backward hoodie and pulls the end of the hood between his lips so it resembles a big throat. “A pelican.”

“Oh.” Louis’ laughs lightly, but his heart is still racing. “What about the other thing? About me waiting?”

“Oh, El--” Harry hiccups. “Eleanor didn’t know right away when she met her soulmate. Isn’t that crazy?”

Louis studies Harry’s earnest expression as he tries to understand. What does Eleanor have to do with Louis waiting for his soulmate? And why does Harry know about Eleanor’s soulmate story anyway?

A flash of anger sizzles through his spine as he puts the pieces together. She’s been meddling again. He knows it. She told him her fucking story, and Harry...well, Harry thinks El isLouis’ soulmate like everyone else. He doesn’t feel anything to make him suspect any different. 

It hurts even though it isn’t new. 

~~~

Eleanor pounces on him when the door closes behind the last guest. “So how was your night? I thought it went well. I had a great night.” Louis knows what’s coming next. He shoots daggers at her with his eyes, willing her to shut up, but she forges on. “So Harry and I were talking and--”

“And nothing. Stop it.”

“Look, he hates when I smoke. He hates when anyone smokes, except you.”

“I’m naturally very charming. People can forgive me for a lot.” Louis walks into the living room and starts gathering cups, and she follows him.

“He admitted it though. He admitted he is only okay with you smoking. No-one else.”

“Where is this going, El?” Louis feels his jaw tick with barely concealed frustration.

“He loves you. You’re his soulmate, too. We just have to help him see it.”

“Okay, wow, thanks. That’s great. All these years I’ve been taking any little bit of him I can get and watching him date other people, giving him advice about his fucking sex life, but yeah I’m sure he fucking adores me secretly--”

“Lou, come on, I really--”

“Stop!” Louis’ voice comes out sharp and much louder than he intended. He takes a shaky breath. “I told you to leave it, but instead you told him about your fucking soulmate. He thinks that’s me, by the way, which means I got to have him drunkenly talk about how I waited for my soulmate. For a crazy moment, I thought he knew. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Eleanor looks appropriately horrified. “Louis, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think that--”

"Fuck. You.” She recoils. “You know how much this hurts me. You know how fucking hard it’s been for me to accept living with him as my best friend, but you just have to stir it all up, don’t you? Do you not want this anymore?” He gestures wildly between them. “Is this you telling me you wanna go platonically share a life and a bed with someone else? Have at it! Pack your bloody bags!”

Louis crosses his arms over his heaving chest. There's a loaded pause as he stares resolutely at crisp crumbs on the carpet. He refuses to feel badly about yelling at Eleanor.

When he glances back up, Eleanor’s face has smoothed into a look of resolve. “I would give anything to have my soulmate back, and you have yours right there.” She grabs his arm. “I don't understand how you can give up when he’s right in front of you.”

“Your soulmate loved you when he died. He was yours until the bitter end.” Louis tries to shrug her hand away. He doesn’t want pity, and he doesn’t want to listen to her. “Imagine if I lose Harry, if I push him and ruin our friendship? Then he wouldn’t even be my best friend.” He needs Harry, like air or water or his own heartbeat. “I need him to be mine...in some way, whatever way I can.”

She bites her lip and lets go of his arm. “I know.” Rubbing her hands over her face, she says, “I’m sorry.”

He sighs. “It’s okay.” He understands what she’s saying, but it isn’t okay, not really. Louis feels like he’s going to throw up or cry or maybe just lie on the ground and stare at the ceiling until he withers away.

Every ‘what if’ is right there again, right back on the tip of his tongue. 

What if Harry has always known Louis is his soulmate, but he just didn't want him like that? What if Harry could never feel that way about him? But what if he could?

What if Harry could be his?

Louis used to hope that doing things together like a couple might change something. He took Harry to the movies, bought him jewelry, and even cooked for him a few nearly disastrous times. Harry took it all in stride and even started doing the same for Louis, but he remained his best friend and nothing more.

What if Louis manages to make him see it this time, this thousandth time? What if it somehow changes? 

There’s a quote about this exact situation, though. “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results.” Or reading meaning into something that isn’t there, Louis thinks to himself with a sigh. They forgot that bit. 

When Harry had found that photo in his wallet, Louis thought for a moment it was all over. He thought Harry would call him out, say, “What the hell, Lou, that’s weird. Are you obsessed with me?” But of course, he hadn’t done that because he’s Louis’ soulmate.

How could Harry not feel it? 

And fuck, there are a thousand questions and so much pain rising to the surface like blood from a wound. He’s raw again. It’s all raw again. 

~~~

Louis gets up the next morning having barely slept. Eleanor opens one eye and looks at him knowingly. He shrugs, and she lets it go. It’s her fault anyway. She opened Pandora's box back up. 

Eleanor might believe there is hope, but after ten years Louis just can’t believe that.

He gets dressed in silence, carefully arranging his hair and tucking his joggers into his socks. When his phone vibrates, he steps outside and into a car. His publicist meets him with a frothy Starbucks and a run down of the itinerary, and he dozes off as they drive north. Then it’s time to sign records, give hugs, and pose for photos. He is good at this, and he loves his fans more than anything, but this morning his heavy heart makes everything harder. 

At the end of the day he has an interview. The host is someone he hasn't worked with before, but he seems nice enough. They chat about Louis' recent charity work and whether he would be getting a TikTok (Louis scoffs at the idea), before turning to music. 

"So on ‘Always You’ you sing about thinking you could get over someone but realizing they were it for you. Many of us know you separated from your longtime girlfriend for about two years before reconnecting."

"Right. We went through a lot of growth and found our way back to each other." Of course, the song is really about Harry, but that isn’t the public story.

"So...what's it like dating someone other than your soulmate?" 

For a moment Louis thinks this stranger knows, but then he realizes he means his brief attempts at actually dating when he wasn't partnered with Eleanor. 

"Well, it didn't go well," he says with a laugh he hopes doesn’t come across as nervous. 

"It's strange to date other people once you've found your soulmate."

Louis feels anger bubbling up at the invasive questions. "Unusual but not strange. Just because two people are soulmates doesn't mean they’ll be together."

The man guffaws. "Well, yes it does."

"No. Sometimes it just doesn't work."

"Why?"

"For lots of reasons!" Louis feels his pulse rising. Did Eleanor talk to this host? He slaps the table. "Let's move on!" His publicist shoots him a disapproving glance, and Louis adds, "I'd love to talk about my new single ‘Defenseless’."

The host squints his eyes in that hungry way people do when they hit on something salacious, but Louis’ publicist clears her throat and his expression smoothes out. “Yes. ‘Defenseless’ is such an incredible song, Louis.”

“Thank you,” he says with a tight smile.

“What inspired it?”

“It was about reaching out to my, erm, my former partner, and trying to ask her if she could take me back, even though I had hurt her.” He had come crawling back to Eleanor, bruised and exhausted from trying to give love a chance outside his soulmatch.

“You say, ‘I’m too tired to be tough. I just wanna be loved.’”

Being loved deliberately and unconditionally was hard to find, it turned out. He’s so lucky to have found Eleanor. He raises his eyebrows and says, “Powerful stuff, innit?”

“It is. I think we’ve all felt like that at some point or another,” the host says.

“I think so, too.” Louis takes a deep breath, finally feeling more at ease. “I try to write about the human experience, you know? It’s my experience, but I know, even though I’m not--my life isn’t quite like the average one--”

“Right, you’re a multimillionaire pop star!”

Louis smiles wryly at that positive spin. He had actually been thinking about losing people and pining after his soulmate for a decade. “Yeah, well, even if my life isn’t like yours, I’m a person, just like you.”

“Ah, yes, the title of another one of your songs.”

Louis nods. “One of my favorites. The fans think I don’t see their tweets and tumblr posts about their lives. I do, though, and the core of my life isn’t that different from any of theirs.”

“I think that’s what makes your music so great.”

“That’s very sweet. I try my best.”

The host checks his watch. “Well, our time is wrapping up, Louis. Thanks for stopping by. I’m glad that things worked out in your love story. Up next is Louis’ single about asking your soulmate to take you back …’Defenseless’.”

It’s not about his soulmate, and his love story never worked out, but whatever. Close enough. Louis takes off his headphones with a sigh. He’s really too high-strung for live interviews right now, but at least that wasn’t a total disaster.

On the car ride home he asks to take a detour. His publicist gives him a weird look, but he doesn’t bother explaining himself. After all, as the interviewer just reminded him, he’s a multimillionaire pop star. He can have a bizarre whim or two. 

When they pull up outside Manchester Central, he says, “I’ll be back in a bit,” and gets out on his own.

A decade ago he had been here, nervous out of his mind for an audition that could change his life. He hadn’t realized something much more important was going to happen before he even got to the front of the line.

Louis slowly winds his way through the empty halls, trying to remember that fateful morning: the heartbeat in his throat, the way his mouth felt so dry, and then, getting out of line to go to the bathroom.

He finds the exact one, braces himself, and walks in. It doesn’t look like much, with dirty tiles and cheap mirrors, but it makes tears spring into his eyes. He remembers it all. He can feel the overwhelming sense of awe and joy that had come over him when he’d--literally--bumped into the gangly, curly-haired kid at the urinals. 

“Sorry!” Louis had yelped. But instead of feeling mortified when he met the eyes of the person he’d bumped into, he smiled.

“Oops!” The boy looked embarrassed, but he smiled, too.

“It’s okay...Harry.”

Harry’s eyes went so wide until Louis pointed to his name tag. “Oh.” Harry had laughed, and it had sounded like music, like the soundtrack to Louis’ life. “Well, yeah, I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you…?”

“Louis,” he finished, feeling something content and wonderful bubbling up in his chest.

When their hands fit together in a handshake, Louis had fractured into prisms like sunlight. 

Harry. _Harry_ . Harry was the one. Just like that, Louis had found his person, his _Harry_.

He must have been grinning like a fool because Harry grinned like a fool right back at him. They stared at each other for a moment, caught in their own world.

Harry had shaken his head like he was clearing it. "We should probably wash our hands.” 

Louis was breathless, so he just nodded dumbly and followed Harry to the sinks. They caught each other’s eyes in the mirrors above the sinks, blushing and smiling. Louis remembers thinking it was an incredibly funny way for their story to start; they were soulmates who met at the urinals. 

“So you’re auditioning today?” Harry asked.

Louis had forgotten the auditions. “Oh. Yes. I am.” He was auditioning on the luckiest day of his life, as it turned out.

“Me, too.” Harry’s mouth was so big; his smile looked like it could pop right out of his face. Before he could stop himself, Louis reached out and touched one of the dimples in his cheeks. He was more beautiful than anything Louis could have dreamed up.

Harry didn’t seem to mind the touch, but his smile turned into a grimace. “I’m so nervous I can barely feel my legs.”

“You’ll be amazing," Louis gushed. "You’re going to smash it. You’re star material, love.”

Harry’s blush deepened into a beautiful rose color. He bit his lip and shoved his fingers through his hair. “Thank you.”

Louis laughed again, out of pure joy. He couldn’t believe how amazing his life was. “Sign my arm will you? I wanna be able to say I was the first to get your signature.”

“Really?"

"Really."

He had struggled through his pockets for a pen and let Harry scrawl his name across his skin with the type of pure ecstasy he’d never thought possible while fully clothed. He was Harry’s, marked and signed and promised. He’d rubbed a finger across the scribble in wonder.

A loud speaker announced that the next batch of contestants was due in five minutes, and the panic returned to Harry’s face. Louis rubbed a hand up and down his arm soothingly, and said, “Here, give me your number. I’ll text you when we get back in line.”

Harry had nodded in relief, then smiled and hugged him so tightly. 

_L: Hey curly how’s the line_

_H: Best place I’ve ever been_

_L: Really? I think the best place I’ve ever been was those urinals_

_H: Yeah I take it back. Those urinals are the best place I’ve ever been._

_L: :D_

Louis had walked into that audition on a cloud. Nothing could touch him, not even Simon Cowell telling him to sing a different song. Nothing could dilute the magic in his veins. 

~~~

It feels claustrophobic in the bathroom, full of hope that had aged into acid. Louis practically runs back into the hallway. He stumbles, trying to breathe evenly. That wonderful morning hadn’t been what he wanted it to be.

They had both gotten through auditions. The magic of that day hadn’t disappointed. Then they were roommates, because fate brought soulmates together like that. 

Louis had been so lost in the blissful haze of Harry that he hadn’t realized at first that Harry wasn’t exactly acting romantically with him. Harry would tickle him, tease him, and sleep next to him when he was homesick. He would look at Louis with a dopey grin and say, “So glad I met you, Lou. What are the chances?” But when Louis paused and let his eyes flick down to Harry’s soft lips, Harry never leaned in. He just smiled serenely like he would be happy to spend all day right there watching Louis. It was like he hadn't even considered the idea of kissing Louis.

Louis hadn’t worried, though. He was happy to wait for his soulmate to feel comfortable moving further than cuddles and hand holding. After all, Harry was just sixteen, and there wasn’t any rush when they had their whole life ahead of them.

Louis wasn’t the jealous type, either. So he didn’t let it bother him when Harry kept climbing into Aiden’s lap and fluttering his eyelashes. It was harmless. At the end of the day Harry always came back to Louis.

Of course, fate kept pushing them together. Simon put them into the same band. The band started getting famous, and that’s when the interviews started getting more invasive. The reporters would get that look in their eyes like they were on the hunt. 

One interviewer had asked the boys if they had their eyes on anyone in particular, and Louis had joked about a certain curly boy, because of course he had his eyes on Harry. Harry had giggled and said a girl in the house. 

Louis had laughed. _His_ soulmate _being interested in someone else, as if!_ Harry didn’t laugh, though. Louis hadn’t understood that, because when he reached for Harry’s hand they still fit together perfectly, and Harry still crawled into his arms to cuddle away his stage fright. There was no need to doubt their bond.

The fluorescent lights of the hallway buzz and flicker. This isn’t the first time Louis has felt nauseous in Manchester Central. He closes his eyes, willing his mind to stop spinning forward through the memories towards the moment his whole world collapsed. The film reel has momentum now, though, and he can’t stop it.

It hadn’t been long before an interviewer had asked the band who was single. Harry raised his hand. Louis' vision doubled and his ears rang like he’d been punched. “You are?” he had choked out. 

Harry looked bemused. “Unless you know something I don’t? I’m still waiting for my soulmate to come whisk me away.”

Still waiting. He had still been waiting. 

Louis leans against the cool wall, and lets the tears fall. 


	3. Chapter 3

Harry is practicing some lines when he gets a weird text from Eleanor. 

_E: You heard from Louis?_

_H: no…?_

Eleanor types for a while and then stops. Then finally a message comes through.

_E: ok thx_

_H: why??_

She doesn’t respond. While running his scenes, Harry muses on what exactly she thought Louis might have talked to him about. Had they been planning dinner at theirs? He can’t remember anything like that. Is there a problem with the press, something they need to sort out? He eventually decides he should check in with Louis one way or another. He types a few different messages to Louis before finally settling on one.

_H: Call when you’re free?_

Louis doesn’t respond, either.

~~~

Harry didn’t hear back from Louis, but he did eventually hear back from Eleanor. Louis had packed a bag and disappeared. On the third day of Louis’ disappearance, Lottie had called to say that Louis was okay. Apparently he just needs some time away from everyone...including Harry.

It has been two weeks of radio silence since then. Harry doesn’t understand what happened, why Louis is ignoring him and hiding out. Louis is a grown up, though. He can make his own decisions. It’s not like he owes Harry anything. Harry shouldn’t feel so hurt, really. 

Harry shakes away thoughts of Louis and focuses back on the present. He has a date tonight. He keeps first dates low key these days, tired of trying to woo people only to realize they aren’t soulmates. He’s waiting by the door of his favorite pub when his date hops out of a car and jogs over. Harry sucks in a breath, wondering if this could be it.

“Hey!”

“Nice to finally meet you, Anton,” he says, sticking out his hand. Harry is focusing on his every inhale, every heartbeat.

“You, too, Harry.” 

Their hands slide together in a handshake. Anton's skin is smooth and his grip firm. Nothing more. There is no earth rending shift. He doesn’t feel anything at all, other than disappointment. 

Harry knows his lips twitch, but he tries to sound cheerful anyway when he says, “Pleasure’s all mine!”

Anton pauses. “So we’re not soulmates.”

“No, I guess not.” It’s strange to talk about it like this, but handshakes exist for a reason, Harry supposes. People need a way to touch casually when meeting someone new… just to be sure. 

Anton rocks back on his heels. “Damn.”

Harry huffs a tired laugh. “Wanna get a beer anyway?”

“Yeah, let’s.” 

And they have a fine conversation. Anton is just as charming and chiseled in person. Everything is great, but Harry can’t make himself care, not when he knows somewhere out there is a person who fits with him like a puzzle piece. 

“Do you think about your soulmate?” Harry finds himself asking in the middle of what should have been playful banter over whether the Beatles counted as a boyband.

Anton looks uncertain at the sudden change. “Oh, um, yeah.”

“Right. Of course.”

Anton rubs at the condensation on his glass and sighs. “I think about him everyday. I know I would have felt it if he died. At least that’s what they say. So I’m waiting for him.”

It is exactly what Harry might have said. He feels tired. “Me, too.”

They look at each other for a moment before Anton breaks the silence. “This isn’t gonna work, huh.”

Harry shakes his head. 

Anton grabs his hand and holds it for a moment. “Good luck with everything, Harry.” Then he slides his coat on, puts some money on the table, and leaves.

Harry sits there milking his drink for a while longer, enjoying the choice in music and the way no one in this pub bothers him. When he finally steps outside, he finds Anton leaning against the wall surrounded by cigarette butts, a lit fag in one hand and a phone opened to Grindr in the other. 

Anton shrugs. “Coping mechanisms die hard.”

Harry wrinkles his nose. “Good night, Anton.”

He hates smoking, really. It's so gross. _Unless it’s Louis_ , a little voice in his head chimes. He still doesn’t know what to think of that little revelation. Eleanor had been so smug about it, as if it mattered, but of course it really doesn't. Louis could get away with almost anything with Harry. Everyone knows that. 

He takes the long way to his car to be alone with his thoughts, but then a fan spots him. Somewhere in between hugging--confirmed to not be his soulmate--and posing for a photo he spots a "Mrs Styles" sticker on the fan's phone case. His smile falters, and he's grateful when he can duck away. 

He has his family and friends and Louis, and it seems selfish to say it's not enough, but it isn't. 

As he slides out of his parking spot and onto the road, he feels the itch to call Louis. He longs for his comforting banter and laughter. Plus, well, he just misses the sound of his voice. He's been leaving Louis alone, but it feels like holding his breath; he can't do it forever. 

Siri almost sounds chipper when he asks her to dial. It's a relief to hear the ring, and then...it just goes to voicemail. 

"Hey Lou. It's, um, Harry. Just wanted to check in." Harry swallows unsure of what exactly he wants to say. There is so much in his chest that he can't quite grasp or form into words. So he settles for, "Hope you're doing okay. Let me know when you’re around again. Okay. Love you. Bye."


	4. Chapter 4

Louis didn’t plan it, exactly, but he ended up on his sister’s porch with a bag. She got him tea and pulled out the couch bed without asking any questions. He needed to be away, and her little flat in Doncaster was the best place he could think of. 

He doesn’t charge his phone.

He used to stay up wondering if he should quit the band and just get as far from Harry as he could. He used to stay up imagining a million different worlds and lives for himself, like a world where Harry felt it, too. He’d even imagined what it would be like to have Eleanor’s fate instead. She got to meet and love her soulmate, even though she then had to watch him die. In his darkest moments, he used to wonder if that would be easier, to have your soulmate fully but briefly rather than have them dangled in front of you forever, always just out of your reach. Now, he wonders that again.

The days pass more quickly than he expects, weeks passing easily. Cooking and laundry are Lottie’s demands in exchange for the couch, which keeps him busy, and his other siblings come over sometimes. There is homework to check on and family dinners to look forward to. They watch movies and play games, and everything is so comfortingly calm.

It’s almost enough to make him forget what he’s hiding from, until one night when he’s playing with the youngest twins. He finds his mind straying to Harry, who is so good with the twins, with children in general really. _Fuck_ , he squeezes his eyes shut. _That’s not Louis’ future._ He painstakingly lets those thoughts go until he can breathe evenly again. 

Louis is determined to focus on the future, a realistic one. He’ll have to ask Eleanor about adopting.

When he does eventually charge his phone there are hundreds of notifications, including two voicemails. One is from Eleanor, letting him know she's taking a trip. The other is from Harry, and for a moment he panics. Is Harry okay? Did he need Louis? Or did Harry call to say he’s met his soulmate? Because people having more than one soulmate is something that Louis read about once, and it keeps him up at night with his stomach in knots. 

He listens to the message immediately. It’s nothing like he feared, but Harry’s concerned voice and soft “love you” has him trembling. God, he misses Harry like a limb. Just one voicemail and he’s back where he started. Apparently, his weeks away have done nothing to weaken how he aches to be near Harry and make him laugh. 

In the still light of the next morning, Louis decides he can’t hide forever. Everything he’s running from is still right there just outside the warm bubble of his bed, of this flat, of this strange month outside the normal timeline of life. He needs to face it. As he gathers his things, he savors the familiar smells and the sight of forgotten toys and textbooks. It soothes his anxieties and fortifies him to brave the real world again.

Lottie seems to understand when he announces his departure. She throws her arms around him and whispers, “I know it’s hard, but you’re brave.” He laughs wetly, and she squeezes him tighter. “Come back any time.” 

And just like that, he’s stepping across the threshold and back into the real world. 

On his way back to London, he asks Siri to read him his missed messages. There’s a lot of business matters to deal with, but eventually Louis takes a deep breath and tells Siri to send a text to Harry. 

_L: I'm okay. Come by mine tonight. If you want_

He’s never gone this long without talking to Harry, and he knows Harry must be hurting. Business can wait.


	5. Chapter 5

Louis’ cryptic text had immediately made Harry uneasy. _Of course_ Harry would want to come over. He’d taken a few deep breaths and then shot a text back.

_H: Of course. I’ll come around 8._

Harry has never felt this uncertain driving up to Louis’ house. They’ve never gone this long without speaking, and Harry has a lot of questions. What happened? Why did Louis stop responding? His frustration is laced tightly with fear -- fear he did something wrong or that Louis isn’t okay or that something will change. He can’t lose Louis. 

As he pulls up to the gate, Harry takes a moment to ground himself. _Chances are that everything will be okay_ , he reminds himself as he leans out his window to punch in the code. But the box doesn’t respond. In fact, when he hops out and pushes at the gate, it gives. That’s definitely strange. 

Harry slowly drives past the gate and towards Louis’ house. The house is dark, but Louis’ car is in the driveway. His heart leaps into his throat. Something is wrong. 

He pulls up the handbrake and swings out, running to the house. The door is unlocked when he reaches it. Bracing himself, he opens it and steps inside. Every fiber of his body is on high alert. He moves forwards slowly, silently. 

There is a clang from somewhere deeper in the house, and he flinches. He should call 999. He’s reaching for the phone in his pocket when he hears footsteps, moving fast and getting louder. His fists come up as he whirls in their direction.

A body collides with his and then, well, everything feels brighter. The room is still pitch black, but somehow it doesn’t feel quite so dark. All the fear and fight evaporates from his body, as if it had never been there.

“Oh my god, Harry!”

Louis. It’s Louis who has collided with him. Harry feels incredulous and overwhelmed.

“The power is out. I was coming to let you in. Are you okay?” Louis’ hands are patting him everywhere as though he could find an injury like that.

“It’s you?” It’s the only person who can smoke around him. 

“Yeah, just me, love. So sorry to scare you.”

“No, Louis, it’s you. It’s been you this whole time, hasn’t it.”

There’s a pause. Then Louis’ voice comes again, timid this time. “Any sounds you heard were me. It’s just me in the house right now. Eleanor’s gone.” 

Harry’s hand finds Louis’ face and curves against his cheek, feeling the scruff and the cut of his jaw. God, how had he never noticed it? “No, I mean: _it’s you_ ,” he murmurs.

“Harry,” Louis whispers, voice wavering. “What are you--”

“I was--fuck--so, so nervous and overwhelmed when I met you in that bathroom. You made me feel so calm, so happy, so confident….” Harry fights a lump in his throat as tears fill his eyes. “I didn’t realize what that meant, because that’s just how you are, but just now I _felt_ it, Lou.” He closes his eyes. “It’s you. You’re my soulmate.”

Louis turns into Harry’s hand and presses a kiss to it. Harry feels warmth blossoming through him from the point where Louis’ lips had been, until he realizes his cheek is wet with tears. 

“I didn’t think you would ever feel it,” Louis whispers, his words laced with so much pain.

Harry pulls him against his chest. “Have you known all this time?”

“All this time.”

Harry can’t imagine living like that. “I’m so sorry. I’m so dumb.”

“Always have been,” Louis says with a wet laugh. 

Harry wishes the lights would come back on. He wants to see Louis’ face--for the first time as his soulmate. Which actually reminds him of an important question. “So...Eleanor isn’t your soulmate, then?”

“No, no. We met on a forum for people who, um, lost their soulmates. Hers died.”

Harry feels his heart clench at the thought that Louis had felt like he’d lost his soulmate. He tugs him tighter to his chest. “I’m right here. You found me. I’m not lost.”

“Right here, after all this time,” Louis echoes, running his hand through Harry’s hair.

“Right here,” Harry repeats, softly. His mind returns to the conversation he had with Eleanor on the swing about soulmates. “So you and El are just...dating?”

Louis tugs on his hair. “No! We’re companions, partners, friends.”

Harry feels his shoulders loosen. “So you can be with me?”

“God, yes.”

The lights flicker on around them, and after blinking a few times, Harry can see Louis in all his teary, yet breath-taking, glory. He's always known Louis is beautiful, but in this moment, looking at him and knowing he's his, Louis is so much more. 

They gaze at each other for a moment, fingers tracing skin tenderly, before they gravitate towards each other. Their lips meet on a sigh, slotting together perfectly. He’s bathed in dizzying electricity and warmth, unlike anything he’s ever known.

Harry’s been waiting for so long, when everything he could ever want has been right here.


	6. Chapter 6

Louis wakes up in the pink glow of dawn, curled tightly around Harry. It takes him a moment to remember everything--the month away, the power outage, and then Harry realizing. 

Harry felt it. Harry knows. Harry wants him.

They had kissed, and it was like every year waiting had melted away, all the pining and angst couldn’t compare to the fireworks in Louis’ brain. And now this: waking up with Harry’s skin against his bare chest, feet tangled under the duvet? Louis can barely believe it. Everything that he thought was impossible is happening. It’s his wildest dreams come true.

He breathes in the scent of Harry, the feeling of their bodies like this, and thinks back on when they used to sleep side by side in the early days. It’s not that they ever stopped, but they did it less once Louis realized Harry didn’t know. Sometimes it hurt too much, and sometimes Harry had other people in his bed. 

But this wasn’t painful. It was full of bliss and hope, because this was his future now. They had assured each other of that much before they fell asleep, exhausted from the emotions and incredibly content to tangle their limbs together. 

Harry had whispered, “This is it for me, Lou.”

And Louis had kissed the back of his neck and whispered, “Me, too.”

Eventually he eases himself free of Harry and out of the bed. He goes out onto the balcony and leaves a hushed voicemail for Eleanor explaining what has happened. He knows she’ll be happy for him--if insufferably smug--but he also knows she’ll go back to being alone now that he has his soulmate. They’ll sort something out, though. He won't abandon her now. 

Louis almost texts his publicist. He knows his team will have a fit when he explains everything to them, but that’s a problem for another day. Right now, he needs to call Lottie.

She picks up on the second ring and mutters, “Louis William Tomlinson, it is 7 in the morning. Are you dead?”

“No,” he huffs out a laugh. “I just need to tell you something.” 

“What could be that important?” she moans.

“Well, I met my soulmate ten years ago, but--”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned.”

Louis pauses, then repeats himself. “I met my soulmate ten years ago, but last night, he felt it, too. So, yeah, I’m paired now. With Harry.”

Lottie screams. “Oh my god! That’s so bloody amazing!”

“Yeah,” he says around a grin. “Yeah, it is.”

Louis’ face feels sore from smiling by the time he hangs up. He ducks back inside and is welcomed by the sight of Harry’s curls on the pillow and back curved like a statue in an art museum. Louis lets his gaze linger before making his way over to the wardrobe to change. 

He’s midway through pulling on a new pair of pants when he hears an appreciative whistle from behind him. He pulls them up and twists around, nearly falling over. Harry’s head is propped up on his hand, and he’s looking at Louis with a sleepy smirk. 

“My soulmate’s got a great ass,” Harry says in his rough morning voice. 

Louis barely knows how to process that. He blinks at Harry. He’s never gotten quite this far in his mind when he imagined this happening. He knows in theory that soulmates have sex, and he knows that Harry has always been a sexual, candid person, and he also knows that he finds Harry attractive, but all together...that’s a lot. 

“Good morning,” Louis says, instead of responding directly. 

“And what a good morning it is,” Harry sighs, flopping back onto the bed. “Come back.” He pats the mattress insistently. 

Louis hesitates for a moment, uncertain in the face of this uncharted territory between them, until Harry furrows his brow. He can’t withstand the desire to please Harry, so he climbs back into bed. Their bodies fit so easily, thighs slipping together and hands tangling as though they’ve been doing this their whole lives.

Louis nudges their noses together, and Harry smiles serenely. Ten years later, he’s still wearing an expression that suggests he would happily watch Louis all day, but instead he closes his eyes and kisses him. It’s tender, but there’s an undercurrent of passion. Louis wants to devour Harry, inhabit Harry. Harry must want something, too, because his eyes are intense when they pull back to breathe. 

“Love you,” Harry says. 

Louis kisses him again, his fingers slipping from Harry’s to trace along his spine and splay across his shoulders. Harry lets out a tiny, breathy moan of contentment, but it makes Louis’ mind go other places. 

It feels so natural, and there's no space to overthink.  Pulling back, he says, “Haz,” and waits for his eyes to flutter open. “Is it okay if I touch you? If we do something more?”

Harry just lets his eyes fall shut with a smile. “Yes, please... I want to be close to you. Closer.”

Louis nods. He understands. Their lips collide with fervor, hands smoothing across every inch of skin. They move together like waves, bodies rocking and breaths hitching. Louis feels Harry’s erection before he notices his own. Their cocks should touch, he decides, so he reaches down and puts his hand on Harry’s gorgeous thigh, hikes it up a bit higher around him, and pushes his hips forward. They rub against each other with delicious friction, moaning in harmony.

Harry pulls back, mouth already glistening, and holds Louis' gaze as he pulls himself out of his pants. Louis doesn’t look away as he does the same, heart thundering in his chest. Now when their lengths align, there’s nothing between them. Harry shivers, eyes locked on Louis’, then snakes a hand down between them and rubs a thumb over Louis’ wet tip. 

Louis’ eyes close in pleasure, head tilting back as he arches into the touch. Harry takes that opportunity to kiss his neck, before wrapping a hand around both of their lengths at once. Harry’s always had such big hands. Such lovely hands, especially like this. 

Harry noses at his cheek. “Open your eyes,” he whispers. So Louis does. 

Harry is looking at him with such reverence, and Louis loses himself in those earnest green eyes as he babbles, “I love you. Love you so much, Haz.” He gasps as Harry’s hand starts working up and down.

Harry punctuates each twist of his hand with a word. “I’m - so - lucky.” 

Louis feels fireworks again, zipping up his spine and making his ears ring. He can barely believe this is happening. He nearly tips over the edge right then, overwhelmed by it all, but he bites his lip and wills himself to stretch this moment out as long as he can.

They writhe, moaning into each other’s mouths for who knows how long, until Harry’s eyes get glassy and his rhythm falters. Louis grabs Harry's ass and thrusts his hips up into his fist a few more times until Harry twitches, freezes, and comes all over Louis with a broken cry. Louis wraps his hand around Harry’s and makes swift work of milking him through his orgasm. Only when Harry goes limp, face pressed against his neck, does he grip his own cock and follow him over the cliff.

Louis shudders through his climax and opens his eyes to see Harry smiling at him dopily. Harry raises his messy, cum-covered hand and makes a face. “Ew.” 

Louis laughs, and Harry does, too. Some other day Louis will suck Harry’s fingers clean until he’s ready to go again, but on this morning, this first morning of the rest of their lives, Louis just kisses him softly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and consider reblogging [the fic post](https://larryatendoftheday.tumblr.com/post/644414094093565952/you-can-see-it-with-the-lights-out-8500-words). :) xoxo


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